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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27508477">Glimmering Words at Daybreak</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingwithmolls/pseuds/writingwithmolls'>writingwithmolls</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Epistolary, F/M, I love the Golden Deer, Mentions of terminal illness, Post-War, References to canon deaths, sometimes I think about the Claude ending and go... huh he really did that</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 11:00:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,238</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27508477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingwithmolls/pseuds/writingwithmolls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Claude has spent the last two years in Almyra, carving a new path and writing those who he left behind. He misses those that he loves, but wants to see his goal through until the end--until startling news from the Alliance shakes him to his core.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Glimmering Words at Daybreak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_a_Mossy_Grove/gifts">In_a_Mossy_Grove</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A gift for Rory considering this was inspired by their lovely head canons of post-war Claude!</p>
<p>The opening poem is by Mibu no Tadamine from the Kokinshu.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Since I left her,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frigid as the setting moon,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is nothing I loathe</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As much as the light</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of dawn on the clouds.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-Mibu no Tadamine</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Claude’s heart knows he made a mistake long before his brain does. While his mind swirls with hopes and dreams of a unified world, his heart desperately seeks out those that he left behind. He had left without warning, like the wind blowing the clouds across the sky to hide the moon in the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While he prefers to write in the light of the moon, those nights where the clouds blot her and her stars out are lit by candles. They fill his desk, the wax occasionally spilling onto his pages and covering the words he writes. Half of him wants to take the wax as a sign to swallow the words—the other half swears it is divine censorship.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the bath of candlelight, Claude writes his loved ones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sunlight is for negotiations—it’s for meeting potential allies and carving a peaceful path through all of Almyra. He doesn’t have to be Claude von Reigan in the burning sun of his birth country. He can be Khalid: the man who will mend the relationships and tear down the borders that had caused them so much pain. The day calls for him to be powerful as the night beckons for him to be a friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, as much as a friend as he possibly can be after leaving before dawn could claim the land. All he has is letters and unsteady promises of being able to return when things are settled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hilda refuses to write him back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was the very first person Claude had written from Almyra. He misses her attitude… he misses her excuses and knows that she is avoiding each of the letters that he sends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marianne writes to him instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The women now live in a cottage tucked away from the aftermath of the war. Marianne’s writing is as soft as her speech and she is angry. She is angry, but glad that Claude is well, breathing. She doesn’t want to lose more. Her letters are the only reason he knows that Hilda is okay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ignatz’s letters are accompanied by art.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He draws charcoal portraits of all the friends they lost in battle. Claude had requested them, and the artist hesitantly delivered: the face of the final member of the Blaiddyd family—his lion mane and hard stare, the Emperor and her gleaming horns with her determination set in her jaw. Ignatz’s most recent letter contains a portrait of the acclaimed songstress who willed the stars to their knees. The next will be of the Gautier knight who fought on the wrong side. Claude wants no more sides.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lysithea’s letters are short and filled with promise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They speak of discovery and deconstruction of slithering magic. Claude pretends not to notice how her steady penmanship is marred by a shaking script as she signs her name proudly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lorenz’s letters become increasingly formal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is now in the position he desired, but the discontent burns in his advice, his negotiations. Claude chuckles at his letters and his powerful voice. His displeasure rings clear in his ears, but disguised among the numbers and policies. Claude is glad that the home that took him in is in Lorenz’s hands. They are good hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Raphael writes the most calming letters of them all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t hold grudges against him or his decisions. Their conversations are never weighed down by what they have done. Raphael writes of his days, how his sister is going to the academy and how he plans to marry Ignatz. He tells of the cool wind of the Alliance and how rainy the month has been. Claude adores the snapshots of a life that could have been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leonie is angry, but is sure her voice is heard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She curses Claude and his stupidity, while interlacing the current events of her life. Claude is the most stubborn bastard in existence, but will he consider a visit? She is to marry Hilda and Marianne and wants him there. He is selfish, but they miss him. Claude swears he can see tear stains on the paper, but does not point them out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth has not written once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her absence claws into his heart as the letters pour in, none in his professor’s clean handwriting. He knows that he left her, but he never expected such contempt. Maybe he did expect it, but the sting echoes in her very bones. He wears his ring everyday even though she doesn’t do the same. Byleth is leading a country, but her personal words never grace his desk. No, they are filtered through Lorenz’s brilliant mind and summarized in his beautiful words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words don’t have the same clever bite, her writing speaking what doesn’t fall from her mouth. Claude remembers the first time he read one of her corrective comments and realized maybe he had underestimated the mercenary’s prowess, her command over the language.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Claude misses her more than he misses his false home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was hard to trust any of them, but Claude believes she was the first where he didn’t mind if she found out who he was, who he is. He aches for the same comfort, the care and vulnerability. He could go back, but his work is hardly done. He saw Edelgard and Dimitri see their goals to the end, he would be a hypocrite to not do the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A single letter arrives from Byleth, following a barrage from the Deer. Claude reads through them with dread—Lysithea isn’t well. The same reports tear at his heart as he writes back his well-wishes, terrified of a world without the young mage. He will not return because Lysithea will heal—she will not have the sun in her drowned by darkness. Leonie’s burning anger cannot bring him back, nor Ignatz’s prayers. Lysithea’s trembling letters promise improvement and like her—Claude is not done. He has work to finish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, he writes all through the burning days and chilling nights until Byleth’s words break through in a thin envelope containing a single piece of parchment. They don’t even fill a whole page.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lysithea is </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Byleth’s writing pleads. “This isn’t about me anymore. Never return from Almyra for all that I care—but come visit </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She loves you, can’t you understand that? We can search all day for cures… and we are </span>
  <em>
    <span>close</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but we will never know if it is enough. Lys knows this, she always has.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop smiling through this. Our smiles and false hopes are for the people we lead, but leave Lysithea out of it. Stop running.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Claude picks up his quill to respond, but as his heart slams in his chest, he looks toward the window. Through the curtain, dawn rises and bears its fangs. Another night of preserving the past. Another night of binding the ones he loves most to a piece of parchment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two years of a new day dawning without her by his side. The pang in Claude’s heart grows and the tears prick his eyes. Politics… countries… they were all simple to fix, to smooth over and lull with sweet-sounding promises. He has none of those to fix the relationships he ran from.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m coming home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-Khalid</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Healing has to begin somewhere, even if it is lost and delayed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! My name is Molly and I'm an author who writes about wlw &lt;3</p>
<p>If you like my work, please support me by following @ mollymariewrites on Instagram! There you can find my Twitter, my published work, as well as get updates about my various sapphic own-voices projects! Thank you so much for your help &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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